I stayed far away from women like her.
She held an amused expression. “You’re not going to ask me why I’m here?”
“You will tell me, when you’re ready.” I walked over to the desk by the window, pulled the chair out, and sat down. “One thing I know for sure, you really like to catch me in my bedroom. We have to stop meeting this way.”
Had she not been there, I would’ve taken in the space. Done a whole survey of the area. But when a woman like Valentina sat on a bed, she became the center of the room.
She looked like a runway model that had been kicked out of a fashion show by the designer for slicing the other models’ necks—sugary, curved lips, but wicked blue eyes. Rosy little cheeks under a deadly gaze. Tasty and poisonous.
Her blonde hair hung to her waist. At the ends were curls. Pretty, soft ones that I wanted to wrap around my finger. That was the other problem with Valentina. She made me stare for too long, made me desire things I shouldn’t have even been thinking about.
Curiosity mixed with her thick accent. “Why do you look at me like that?”
“Because you’re as beautiful as a jazz song.”
She blinked but kept her lips pursed.
What are you doing, Valentina?
I shifted my focus back to that hair, following a few strands at a time, starting from her scalp all the way down to the bed. Again, that urge took me over, this need to wrap my finger around those blonde strands and grab a fistful right as I pumped my cock deep into her.
“What are you wondering now?” she asked.
“How you would sound when you moaned.”
She widened her eyes. “I’m surprised you said that.”
“Why?”
“My brother.”
“You won’t tell him I said that, even if he cared. You don’t want your brother to know you’re in here. I’m thinking this is a secret.” I shrugged. “But, what do I know? I’m new to this scene.”
She uncrossed her legs. “I don’t want him to know.”
“So, then you won’t tell him about what I said.”
“About the moaning?” She slipped her legs to the edge of the bed and rose. “No. I won’t tell him about the moaning.”
I let my gaze slide up her body.
What a lovely sight. I should’ve gotten laid before we left New York. When’s the next time I’m getting pussy in this country?
I drank her in. She’d changed from the flight. Now, she had on a short dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and showed off her long legs. My eyes tracked down to the tall heels she wore.
Step by step, she strolled over to me.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew she was working her sexuality to get me to do something, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy the process of her hypnotizing me.
She pouted. Something I doubted she did much. She was more of a lip biter.
Did she bite those lips, when she came?
She stopped in front of me, encasing my space with her lush scent. “I need your help.”
No shit.
She continued, “It will be simple.”
I doubt it.
“Tonight, there will be a dinner or something.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, and I yearned to run my fingers through it. “I guarantee it. Our uncle will want to celebrate in some way.”
“Okay?”
She moved closer to me, so close that if I raised my hands her way I could touch her. It took everything in me to stay in that chair.
She leaned down and rested her hands on my shoulders. I got an eyeful of lush cleavage right in front of my face.
Surrounding her with me, she whispered, “I put something under your bed.”
I wasn’t expecting that.
Tension built in my shoulders.
“Don’t look at what it is.” She inched her face closer until our lips were a few inches apart. “That thing under your bed is my secret, and mine alone.”
I licked my lips, unable to control myself. Warmth filled the space.
Okay. Focus. Remember, she’s just doing this for something. Besides, Em told me not to trust anyone, not even her.
She continued, “During the party that my uncle holds, I’m going to leave and go back to your room.”
“Why not yours?” I asked.
“Because mine is on the third floor and several stairs away. Yours is right around the corner.”
Good to know.
“Oleg will stay with you as if I’m right by your side.” She gestured to the right of the room.
I almost jumped out of my chair.
Oleg stepped out of the shadows with a scowl on his face.
What the fuck?
Valentina touched my chin with a manicured nail and guided my view back to her. “Do you understand?”
“What else?”
“That’s it.” Slowly, she brushed her lips against mine. Her touch was a sucker punch to my system. The air damn near left my lungs. But, one thing for sure, blood rushed to my cock.
I felt light-headed. “And if I do that for you?”
“Maybe you will know how I sound, when I moan.”
I laughed at the absurdity of that even being possible.
She giggled too and rose. “You’re a good friend, Maxwell.”
Oleg got to her side and placed his gun back in his holster.
Good job. I didn’t even know he had his gun out. What the fuck? Never again will Valentina have me slipping like that.
“Thank you.” I rose from my chair.
Oleg didn’t appear excited about it. “Sit.”
“Relax,” Valentina whispered without even glancing his way. “Perhaps, Maxwell wants to walk me out.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Since we’re keeping secrets and doing favors…I need one.”
Oleg frowned.
Valentina grinned. “What does the Harlem Crew want?”
“Guns.”
She raised her eyebrows. “How many?”
“Six.”
Valentina considered it. “From what Luka says, Em is more of a knife girl. Do I have to worry about my brother’s safety?”
Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed it.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What will you do with the guns?”
“Honor their beauty and craftsmanship.”
“Hmmm.” Her smile widened. “Oleg, give him your gun.”
A grumble came from the big man, but nothing more as he pulled his weapon out of the holster and handed it to me.
“That is all I can provide for now.” She shrugged. “In Moscow, I can give you more.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, just make sure Kazimir knows that I didn’t give them to you. I will deny it.”
I nodded. “So, he doesn’t want us to have them?”
“Guns are dangerous weapons.” She walked away. But instead of using the door, she headed to the massive painting on the side of the wall. It was taller than her, but as wide as a door. “Don’t forget about tonight.”
“I won’t.”
She clicked the side of the painting. It opened up, swinging back from the wall.
What the fuck?
She noticed how I looked at the door. “I heard that Emily likes tunnels.”
“She does.”